


Like Liquid

by applejuice_motherfucker



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts, Tentabulges, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:56:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applejuice_motherfucker/pseuds/applejuice_motherfucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who gives a mother fuck, am I right?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Liquid

**Author's Note:**

> Written for gamzees-panties on Tumblr as a request fill.
> 
> Never written Gamzee before so...hopefully I didn't fuck up too bad :/

Sometimes you think he's made of pure elastic. The way he twists, stretches and winds, pours himself around on your floor like liquid. It kind of freaks you out sometimes.

 “Shit, brother, fuckin' A-Grade fuckin', just so in right now, motherfucker, can I get a fuckin' preach up in this bitch?” You frown, moving a small pile of movies out of the way of his flopping arm. His face is filthy.

 “Don't make me tell you to go fuck yourself, idiot,” you say, crawling back over to him. You've both been completely naked all day. You didn't mean to be but he has ways of convincing you to stop really minding about things like this. You wipe his mouth with a small tut before leaning in to kiss him again, feeling a hand curling round the back of your neck posessively, fingers tangling themselves in your hair. You stroke his chest right over his heart without meaning to. He purrs.

 You find yourself atop him once again, and idly wonder how many more times you'll end up here today. Not that you mind, not at all in fact, not when you can feel his smile with every kiss. His hands tracing up and down your back as you press forward into him. His legs stretch out for days behind you, and you sit up, placing your hands on his thighs and balancing back on them. He tucks his hands behind his head and watches you hazily, grin never leaving his face.

 “What'cha say, my man? Ready for round what? Who gives a mother fuck, am I right?” He sounds like he's about to pass out, but he won't. He's too interested in you to stop any time soon. You try to scowl at him even though you know he doesn't care.

 “If my lusus shows up...” is all you whisper for the millionth time today as you lean back down, kissing him softly, inviting him to take you deeper, which he does. His tongue curls around yours, you can feel his lips sucking against you, drawing out your bottom lip, tugging gently with his teeth. You breathe into him and he _inhales_ when you do. You feel his hands trailing up your thighs, wrapping his fingers around your hips and holding you to him. A short breath leaves you and he swallows it, his hips starting to pulse up into yours. You bite your lip, pressing him down by the chest to get some air. You feel his fingers spread you open and you hate that you want it _again_ so soon, but you do, and you grind down, removing all possible space between you, your arms snaking around his neck as he licks a slow trail up yours.

 You tangle together, slick sliding into a sweet mess that spills around you. He crushes his hips up into you and you moan, not expecting it, biting into his shoulder which he fucking loves. His tongue curls around your ear, you can hear his smile even now, feel the sharp point of a tooth as it grazes you lightly. He keeps pushing, and pushing, a finger sliding in, playing with you as he keeps tangling with you, and you're so fucking _wet_ you can't fucking take it anymore.

 Your bucket's past full already so you let go, crying into his neck, gasping his name, squirming into him as if you can get any closer, and he never stops, never relents, never gives you a chance to catch up until he lets go himself. One hand digs harshly into your back, nails scraping you, struggling to keep a steady rhythm. He breathes a half-promise into your ear, one you know he'll never keep but would like to think he would. It's good enough for you.

 He sinks back to the floor, once again a massive puddle, his eyes really are fighting to stay open now. You try to clean up but eventually give up and curl up on top of him. His face paint is fucking everywhere, you think, drawing lazy invisible pictures into his skin as he passes out.


End file.
